Wise Men Use Tonight
by Bluehaven4220
Summary: It has been at least 5 years since Jamie and Bridget have seen or heard from the Doctor. When he returns to them begging for help, the three of them face the most dangerous decision of their lives. Sequel to Musically Inclined. Jamie/OC, 2nd Doctor Era
1. Ridiculous

**Title: Wise Men Use Tonight**

**Author: Bluehaven4220**

**Summary: It has been at least 5 years since Jamie and Bridget have seen or heard from the Doctor. When he returns to them begging for help, the three of them face the most dangerous decision of their lives.**

**A/N: Here we are, readers! The sequel to 'Musically Inclined'. I hope you all enjoy the adventures that Jamie and Bridget are going to have now that they have a family, and please feel free to leave a review, the door is always open.**

**ooOoo**

_Try not to talk when there's nothing to say. Kept bottled up we get carried away. Then I fall, then I fall down, then we fall down. And you know that it makes me feel so ridiculous… a pocket full of poesies we fall, down on the inside pretty on the outside, turn it around, can we turn it around? Try to make a comeback with nowhere to start from now, but it's looking up._

_Ridiculous- Bowling for Soup_

**ooOoo**

_She couldn't explain it. _

_She simply could not explain it. _

_She couldn't explain why she shrunk away from Jamie's touch, why she could barely stand to look at him, let alone let him touch her, why she snapped at him when he tried to talk to her…_

_Still her heart ached for him, it was as though being apart hurt her more than he'd ever know, and she meant ever. _

Bridget snorted into her tea as she read the excerpt from the latest short story that had been sent her way. Good Lord, an adult wrote this? Her daughter, Carol, was five and could write better than this. This was one of the worst things she'd ever read, and she'd edited countless stories and books about childish drivel that no one but a specific niche market would be interested in. If this author was looking to kill the brain cells of every intelligent human being on the planet, she was pretty sure they could have succeeded. Never mind the fact that the hero had the same name as her husband; that just made it even more hilarious.

"Bridget, are ye okay? Why are ye laughing?" Jamie came up behind her, placing his hands on her shoulders.

"Yeah, I'm fine, this is just…" she snorted again. "Oh Lord, I just can't…"

She fought to contain her laughter.

"I simply cannot finish this, it's just god-awful," she admitted, resting her elbow on the kitchen table, her pen balanced between her fingers. "And I'm the one who has to write the rejection letter."

"Well so long as ye handle it gently, like ye always have," Jamie kissed her cheek and patted her shoulder in reassurance. "The kids will be home soon, what are we doing for supper tonight?"

"It's leftover night," Bridget chewed the end of her pen, not turning around at the sound of the fridge opening. "Whatever's in there, put it on a plate, heat it in the microwave and there you go, enjoy!"

"And t' think I used t' look forward t' a home cooked meal."

"What's that supposed to mean? I cook almost every night," she turned around in her chair and stared at her husband. "Tonight I just don't feel like cooking. Most of the time I'd offer you a peanut butter sandwich. Be thankful there's stuff that can actually be reheated this week." She turned in her chair, rolling her eyes.

"Aye," Jamie took a container out of the fridge and placed it on the counter. Opening it, he lifted it to his nose, sniffed, and shrugged.

"Chicken stew," he mumbled.

"Do you mind finishing the rest of that?" Bridget asked as he made a mark on the manuscript. "Alex and Carol had huge helpings last night, I doubt they'd want it again."

"What don't I want again?" she heard from the doorway. Alex had thrown open the door and kicked his shoes off, hitting the wall with a dull THUD.

"And good evening to you too," Bridget answered sarcastically as nine year old Alex came over to the kitchen table and kissed his mother hello. "Empty your lunch bag into the sink, and go get started on your homework."

"But…"

"You have that massive assignment due in two weeks. Go get started on it now," she answered his rebuttal, replacing the manuscript in the envelope it had first arrived in and seeing Carol storm through the door, face like thunder and arms crossed over her chest.

"Damn!" she let the word out with such force Jamie nearly dropped the container he was replacing in the fridge.

"_What did you just say_?" he roared, slamming the fridge shut and startling the little girl into silence.

"I… uh…" she whimpered, backing against the door.

"Jamie, back away," Bridget got up and stepped between father and daughter. Getting down to Carol's level, she looked her daughter in the eyes. "You know better than that, Carol, what made you say such a thing?"

"The kids on the school bus said it," her eyes were filling with tears. "They say it when they get mad."

"And are you mad?" Bridget asked.

"No…" her tiny voice answered.

"We don't say those words. Ever." Bridget reminded her, straightening Carol's school tie. "Just because someone else says it when they're mad does not mean it's the right thing to say."

"But I didn't know that," she protested.

"Yes you do know, I think you just forgot," Bridget answered. "Now, here's what's going to happen. You're going to your room for a 5 minute time out, and when that time out is done, no dessert after supper."

She stuck out her bottom lip.

"That's not going to work. Off you go."

Carol trudged up the stairs, stomping each step.

Once they heard her bedroom door close, Jamie nearly rounded on his wife.

"What did ye do that for?"

"Do what?"

"Step in front o' me like that."

"I know your temper, Jamie, and it would have been entirely misplaced in a situation like that," Bridget turned and placed Jamie's plate in the microwave. "If she was really curious, she probably just said it to see what reaction it would cause. What happened to you the first time you ever cursed? Hmm?"

"I got the strap, an' was told t' say a decade o' the rosary lest m' soul burn in hell."

"And how old were you?"

"I dinna ken, six maybe?"

"Mmm hmm, and Carol's five. Do you really think yelling at her is going to solve…"

"Mum!" came a yell from upstairs.

She rolled her eyes, turning around and walking into the living room. "What?"

"Mum!"

"What!" she repeated. "I'm busy!"

"Carol spit at me!"

"Alexander McCrimmon, don't you dare spit back!" she shouted as she ran toward the bottom of the stairs, hearing the tell tale sounds of forcing mucus to build in the back of one's throat starting. "If you simply cannot get along with each other tonight, you're simply going to stay away for her, and she from you!"

"But…"

"No more buts! I'll call you when dinner's ready!"

"I hate you!" Carol shouted out her door toward her older brother. "You're a snot-rag!"

"Mum!"

"Work it out amongst yourselves! Don't make me get your father up there!"

Both children went silent.

"That's what I thought," Bridget mumbled under her breath, going back into the kitchen. She put a hand to her forehead, sighing.

"Maybe I shouldn't have gone back to work…" she shook her head.

"Ye were going crazy staying at home," Jamie reasoned, placing the newly washed dishes in the drying rack.

"But they fight all the time now," Bridget answered. "All the time. They pinch each other and it's hard! He pinches her so hard!"

"Hey, hey, relax," Jamie quickly dried his hands and wrapped his wife in a hug. "They're just doin' what siblings do. They fight. Cora an' me did it all the time."

"But they never used to do this when I stayed at home," she protested. "I should just quit my job…" she suddenly felt as though she couldn't stand in one place. "That's… that's it, I'll just quit my job and the fighting will stop, there's no other way around it…" she was pacing back and forth now. "If I'm home I can monitor…"

Jamie seized her by the arm pulled her to him, kissing her hard.

Pulling away, he gave her a huge smile.

"Relax, love," he smiled. "They're still getting used t' the fact that yer not always home anymore."

"Oh God," she ran a hand down her face and took a deep breath. "Why did I ever think I could do this?"

"You're doin' it now," Jamie went to the stairs. "Alex! Carol! Supper's ready!"

There was a sound like a herd of elephants charging into the kitchen, where the two children sat down, restless to finish their supper and go back to whatever they had been doing.

The four of them sat down together, Jamie telling them about one of the mares that was due to foul any week now, and the children who came to learn to ride during the day.

Bridget and Jamie both knew that he'd never be happy in a suit and tie, sitting in an office day in and day out. To remedy this and to make use of the land they had and the horses in the barn, they started a small riding school, teaching children how to tack up, brush, bathe, and muck out horses' stalls. Plus they were getting lessons from Jamie and another instructor who Jamie had hired. She worked as an editor for a publishing house, finishing her degree in Communications after Carol's birth and getting a job after nearly 3 years of being at home.

"Can I have a lesson, Daddy?" Alex asked as he swallowed a forkful of mashed potato.

"After ye finish yer homework," he answered, taking a bite of the chicken stew he'd reheated for his dinner.

"What about me?" Carol asked.

"Tomorrow," he mumbled, taking a drink of water.

Bridget forced herself to smile. While she was happier than she'd ever expected, domestic life really wasn't all it was cracked up to be. She and Jamie had barely had time for a honeymoon, with Alex in need of such attention and Carol's birth simultaneous with Jamie's release from prison, they'd never actually had a chance to just be together. She supposed that was what a lot of military wives had felt during the Second World War. Many of those couples had married quickly, in case their sweethearts didn't return.

Still, this was the way life was now, and she wouldn't change it for the world. She climbed into bed each night exhausted, but proud. Proud of her children and their accomplishments, proud that she and Jamie had been able to make a marriage work for five years, and excited that they both had jobs they enjoyed. As Jamie said, why do something you know you're going to hate for the rest of your life, if only for a paycheck?

"I'm all done, Mum," Carol announced. "Can I be excused?"

"Yeah, yeah, off you go…" she took a deep breath and sat back in her chair, waiting until both Carol and Alex had gone back upstairs.

"Bridget?" she could barely hear Jamie's voice. "Bridget?"

"Hmm?" she snapped out of her daze and turned to look at Jamie.

Jamie slid his chair out, got down on his knees in front of her, laid his hands overtop of hers.

"Are ye alright, love?"

She nodded a little too quickly, saying nothing. She got up, and took the dishes to the sink. She did the dishes in silence, Jamie stepping in beside her, drying them and putting them away. Once that was done, she went back to the little room that held her computer and a couch. She had to write this rejection letter before she could do anything else. It was never something she enjoyed doing, but it was one of the evils of her job nonetheless.

What she didn't realize was that, by the time she stopped writing, it was near enough half nine, and the kids needed to be tucked into bed. By this point, however, she was so completely exhausted she could barely move.

"Bridget?" Jamie put a hand on her shoulder.

"Yes Jamie, I know, the kids need to be tucked in, I'm coming…" she pushed against the computer desk, wheeling her chair out of the way and standing up. Stretching, she made her way up the stairs, kissed both Alex and Carol good night, and went back downstairs.

Jamie was waiting for her on the couch in the living room with a cup of tea and a blanket.

"Are ye gonna tell me what's wrong?"

She didn't even get the chance to sit down before going back to the front hall, where her purse lay. She pulled out a few folded sheets of paper and went back to the living room.

"What's that?"

"Hold on," she sat down beside her husband and unfolded the paper. "I found this while I was at work."

Jamie gave her a confused look, took the paper from her, and read the headline.

**BODY OF LOCAL MAN PULLED FROM RIVER**

Jamie's expression didn't change.

"Read on," Bridget urged.

**Ottawa**- _Underwater rescue crews were called to the Ottawa Canal today after reports of a man jumping from the overpass. The man has been identified as Anthony Grey, 49, of Ottawa. Anyone with information is urged to call Ottawa Police at…_

And there was a number listed.

Jamie sighed and put the article down on the couch. He crooked a finger at his wife and opened his arms, waiting till she curled on the couch with him and kissing her head, saying nothing.

"I'm sorry Jamie, I didn't mean to be so quiet and off tonight, I just… I didn't want the kids to know about it."

"It's alright, love, really," Jamie whispered, holding her close. "You're safe."

At the mention of the words "You're safe", she let go a breath she didn't realize she'd been holding, but no tears came.

"Why can't I cry?"

"You're in shock."

"But he was my father!"

"Aye, that's true."

"I should feel something," she insisted.

"Ye are, right now," Jamie pointed out. "You're angry."

"I… am… not!" she permeated each word with a light punch to her husband's chest.

"Aye ye are," he repeated, staying her fist. "An' ye have all right t' be."

"I should have been there," she insisted. "Maybe I could have talked him out of it."

"Aye, ye might have, or he might have just told ye t' fuck off."

"It still would have been better than wondering why the hell he did it."

"Any number of reasons, love," he lightly ran his fingers through her hair. "Perhaps he couldna live wi' the guilt anymore."

"But the article said he jumped," she answered, laying her head on his chest. "But it's all relative when someone is that far gone."

Jamie sighed. "The thing ye have t' know, Bridget, is that, even if he was a monster, I am nae denying that, he was your father. It's alright t' cry over that loss. I cried when I lost my father."

"But he wasn't a monster."

"No, but he was still my father. Do ye see what I mean?"

"I think so. What you mean is that it's alright to mourn the loss of my father, not the monster."

"Aye, that's exactly what I mean," he hugged her close, waited till she fell asleep in his arms.

And for the first time in many months, she felt completely at ease and safe, able to sleep without having to look over her shoulder.

Yes, she was safe, and at that moment, curled on the couch with Jamie's arms wrapped around her, there were no monsters.


	2. I Can't Hear the Music

**ninewood: Thank you (smiles). And I'll extend that same offer to you.**

**kaelang12: Thank you very much. I hope you enjoy this chapter just as much**

**A/N: This chapter contains a little bit of nudity and some sexual content. Just a warning for those who might need it. And feel free to leave a review, the door is always open.**

**ooOoo**

_Is it a warning? Is it an evil sign? Is it a people, who have lost their mind? Is it the darkness? Is it a memory's sign? Is it a best friend, leaving you behind? Is it ever going to stop? Will they ever let you go? You're in a rush, they don't care enough, cause their lives are very slow. Time is ticking on, you don't get a second shot, and when you sell your soul for a leading role, will the lost souls be forgot?_

_I Can't Hear The Music- James Blunt_

**ooOoo**

Jamie awoke to the sensation of cool air blasting in his ear. Startled, he turned to see Carol smiling at him.

"Good morning, Daddy," she whispered.

"Good morning love," he answered, then stretched and looked at the clock. "It's only half six, what are you doing up this early?"

"School bus comes at eight," she whispered. "Can we have breakfast?"

Jamie groaned, maneuvering slowly so as to not disturb Bridget. "Alright, ye go get dressed."

"But what about Alex?"

"I'll wake your brother," Jamie sighed. "If he's anything like me, he doesna like the mornings." He looked to see Carol still at his side. "Well go on. Time t' go get dressed, off wi' ye."

Carol bounded up the stairs.

"Quietly! Let yer mum sleep."

"Okay…" Carol went back to her room as Jamie climbed the stairs and knocked on Alex's door, opening it.

"Alex, it's half past six. Time t' get up."

The nine year old, in typical fashion, groaned and rolled over.

"Don't make me throw water on ye. Up!"

"Can I throw water on him, Daddy?" Carol appeared at Jamie's side already dressed in her school clothes.

"Carol, get ye downstairs."

Alex groaned again.

Losing patience, Jamie walked into Alex's room and pulled the blanket off his son. "I'll not tell ye again. Up and get dressed."

Alex mumbled incoherently, got up, and made his way to the bathroom.

Packing them each a quick lunch, Jamie got them out the door to the school bus, marveling how Bridget did it every morning. In a way, he supposed he'd unofficially declared it to be 'Mum's day off.' She'd had a huge shock, and the best way to recover was to rest. Luckily, he noticed that she didn't have to go into work that day, and he had no lessons to teach. Might as well get the chore of mucking out the stalls and feeding the horses done before she woke up, and they could spend the day together.

**ooOoo**

Bridget awoke to the sound of Jamie kicking off his boots and hanging up his coat. He'd just been out to feed the horses, and, from the lack of noise in the house, the kids were already at school.

She got up, and went up the stairs to the children's bedrooms. Seeing that, of course, neither of them had made their beds up, she took to doing them up herself. If nothing else, it would keep her busy, at least for a little while.

"So how long are you going to stand there?" she muttered, not turning around.

"Till ye decided t' speak t' me," she could hear the smirk in his voice.

"I've told them time and time again they need to make their bed before they go off to school, but do they listen to me? Nope. I'm just Mum, what I ask for doesn't matter…" she fluffed Carol's pillow and threw it back on the bed with unnecessary force.

"This hasna bothered ye before…"

"What? Just because I haven't said anything you think it hasn't bothered me?" she nearly yelled. "Because it has, Jamie. Every time I walk by and I see that they haven't made their beds I want to _scream_! It bothers me to no end!" she tucked the blanket into the end of the bed and pushed both hands down into the mattress.

As she went back out into the hall, she brushed past Jamie's extended hand. Not getting very far, her knees gave out from underneath her, and she collapsed, sobbing.

Getting to his knees behind her, he wrapped his arms around her waist, holding her close.

"It's alright, _a nighean_," he whispered, smoothing her hair away from her face and kissing her cheek.

"Make it okay, Jamie," she sobbed. "Please, I don't want to feel the hurt."

Jamie maneuvered her enough to pick her up and carry her down the hallway toward the bedroom.

"I'll do whatever I can."

Laying her on the bed, he kissed her gently, not wishing to startle her. Slowly, piece by piece, he undressed her, till she lay in only her bra and panties. Tracing a finger down her stomach, he trailed kisses down her body, stopping to prepare her properly, stripping off her panties last.

She gasped at the invasion of his fingers, pinching her eyes shut, still trying to find him in the swirl of confusion running through her head.

"I'm here, _a nighean_," she heard him whisper, stopping and grabbing her hand. "See? Feel that? That's m' heart."

She nodded, whimpering at the loss of contact. "Please…"

"Yes Bridget," he reached down between her legs, touched flesh he hadn't touched for well over a week and a half. "It's completely up t' you. You tell me how this will go."

"Curl your fingers," she begged him, waited till he obliged. "Yeah, that's it," she arched, bit back a scream as his fingers moved quickly. "Don't stop, please, don't stop!"

There was a level of desperate pleading in her voice. This wasn't just to comfort her, she truly wanted whatever contact she could have, and he'd oblige her.

"Oh my God!" she cried, tightening around his fingers.

Smiling now, Jamie moved further, rolling away and undoing his belt.

"I still need you, Jamie," she managed between deep breaths. "Please… I want you inside me…"

"Aye, _a nighean_, always…" he carefully climbed back onto the bed, ready, and very slowly, granted her wish. She took him inch by inch, for he would not move until she gave him permission to do so.

"Don't stop now…"

He didn't, and when she arched once again, this time with him, she pulled him close.

"No… no, don't move," she laid his head on her chest. "Stay…" she breathed. "Please… stay inside just a little longer."

If that was what it took, to lay on top of her and protect her from all possible harm (though he could not fathom any sort of harm coming to her in their bedroom), then he would.

He felt her tighten around him ever so slightly, making him gasp.

"Have I told you lately how good you feel?" he asked, his arms wrapped around her back, holding her tight.

"How?"

"I can't really describe it, it's like…" he paused. "When we're joined, it's like I dinna exist without ye."

"Me neither," she sighed, rubber limbed.

"Are ye alright, _a nighean_? Can I move off ye now?"

"So long as you hold me," she answered as he rolled over, settled on his back, and pulled her close.

Curling into his chest, he felt her shoulders start to shake.

"What's the matter, love?"

"I don't know," she insisted. "I honestly don't know why I'm crying over someone who didn't love me in the first place."

"Aye, but there must be a part of ye that loved him."

"I don't know, I really don't," she repeated. "How do you love someone who beat and raped you almost every night?"

"Was there ever a time when ye did something special together?"

"You mean when you and Carol have 'tea' together?"

"Aye, like that."

"Um… I think there was this one time where he took me to the playground, and he would catch me at the bottom of the slide and throw me in the air laughing."

"And were ye laughing too?"

"Yeah."

"See, that's a good memory. How old were you?"

"I think about six."

"An' at that point, there was a little girl that knew her daddy loved her an' would be there for her."

"But that all changed when I hit puberty and his friend raped me. Even after he threatened him off with a gun, I don't understand what would cause him to 'continue the trend', so to speak."

"That I canna answer."

"Exactly, and I can't forgive him for that."

"Not t' make ye feel worse, but ye need t' do that in order t' heal."

"Do you know how hard that is, Jamie? To know that I have to forgive him, and I can't. Even if I'd gotten a one line note with an 'I'm sorry' on it, it would be much easier. I never got anything even _close_ to that. Do you know what he told me?"

"No, what?"

"When he finished, he whispered 'You're as tight as your mother' in my ear."

Jamie's eyes bulged.

"He didna!"

"That, and he called me whore, good for nothing slag, bitch, and any other foul name he could think of at the time. Every time he came, he'd kiss my forehead so forcefully it left bruises. Do you know how that feels? To be treated like a whore when you should be enjoying your childhood?"

He shook his head.

"Exactly. So don't tell me I need to forgive him for something so horrible. I swear there must be a seventh circle of Hell reserved for people like him. Do you see now why I jumped into bed with anyone and everyone? It was all I could do to forget."

"And ye couldna tell me this before?"

"It's not exactly the easiest thing to say, is it?"

"No, it isna," he agreed, holding her close and running his hand down her arm. "But I'm yer husband, an' I love ye no matter what. I'll nae judge ye for mistakes an' decisions past. What he did was disgusting, ye canna blame yourself."

"But there's no one to claim him."

"Claim the body. The soul is now in God's hands an' will be judged for its sins."

"You mean he'll go to Hell?"

Jamie nodded.

"Good."

There was really nothing left to say. The two of them lay together silently, listening to the sounds of the house around them. Even with Alex and Carol at school, the walls echoed with laughter, their school pictures adding a cheeky air to the living room, their books and stuffed animals making themselves known at all times.

"I'd say we're doing alright," Bridget remarked, getting up and dressing again.

"Aye, I agree. Yer a fine wife, an' a great mother."

"Stop it, you're making me blush."

"I dinna say things that aren't true," he answered, dressing at the same time as she.

Smiling, she kissed him once, before hearing the front door open and the sound of children kicking off shoes and throwing backpacks in the corner.

"I _did not_!"

Bridget rolled her eyes. "Now what?"

She went downstairs to see Carol and Alex standing nearly nose to nose. "I didn't do it, an' you know it!"

"What didn't you do?"

"I didn't put leaves down his shorts, Mum! I didn't!"

Bridget suppressed the urge to laugh.

"We were walking home from the bus stop alone! Who else would it have been?"

"A ghost!"

Bridget put a hand to her forehead. "I'm going to let your father sort this one out. Daddy!" she called up the stairs. In front of the children, they called each other Mummy and Daddy, for the sake of simplicity.

Jamie came down the stairs adjusting the hem of his shirt. "Now who put leaves down whose shorts?"

"Carol did, Dad. I'm _still _picking leaves out of my butt!"

Jamie bent down to Carol's level. "An' why did ye do that?"

"I dunno, just 'cause," she admitted, shrugging her shoulders.

"Ye canna put leaves down your brother's shorts just because you feel like it," Jamie scolded her. "Now, ye say sorry t' yer brother an' go t' yer room."

"But Daddy…"

"Now!"

Carol mumbled an apology to Alex and went up the stairs to her room. As Alex sat down at the kitchen table to his homework, they heard a familiar wheezing noise.

"What's that?" Alex asked.

Jamie and Bridget looked at each other.

"Ye dinna think…"

Bridget went to the door, her hand on the knob, and looked out the window.

"Doctor!" she opened the door and held out her arms.

"Hello my dear," he smiled, pulling her close for a quick hug.

"Come in, come in," she let go and led him into the kitchen.

Smiling, Jamie shook the man's hand and sat him down in the living room. They heard a door opening cautiously and Carol's small voice asking if she could come back downstairs, after all she'd been upstairs long enough, and if they had a visitor she wanted to meet them too.

Of course, once she'd been allowed back downstairs, Alex immediately leapt up, grabbed a wooden spoon, and challenged his younger sister to a duel. Shouting 'Creag an tuire!' at each other, they ran around the house screaming as Bridget set down a tea tray.

She set her jaw and turned around. "Alex! Carol! If you two don't stop that this instant, I'll ground you for a month!"

The shouting immediately stopped, and the children froze in place.

"That's better," Bridget poured two cups of tea and sat down on the couch.

"Mum?"

She turned to see both Alex and Carol frozen on the stairs. "I'm not going to make you stand there all night, I just don't want you chasing each other like that. Come and say hello to the Doctor."

Carol couldn't bring herself to move.

"Hey hey, it's alright," Jamie picked her up and walked over to where the Doctor sat., Alex climbing on to the couch beside Bridget. "I know ye dinna remember the Doctor, but it's alright. Can ye say hello?"

Carol buried her face in her father's shoulder.

"Oh now dinna fash," Jamie kissed her temple. "The Doctor is a good friend of mine and yer mum's. Dinna fash."

Carol turned her head and gave the Doctor a shy smile.

"Hello dear girl," the Doctor smiled at her and held out his hand. "What's your name, sweetheart?"

"'M Carol," she answered. Of course he knew her name, but he found that children were normally much more at ease if they introduced themselves to him.

"It's lovely to meet you, my dear," he didn't move, but waited to see if she would come to him.

"Are ye going to say hello t' the Doctor?" Jamie prompted.

Carol took a deep breath. "'Lo," she said, a hint of defiant bravery in her voice.

Jamie kissed his daughter's cheek. "Good girl. Now go sit wi' yer mum. She'll pour ye some tea." He set Carol down and let her walk over to the couch, standing alone with the Doctor.

"So can I ask what brings ye back, Doctor?"

The Doctor stared at him in disbelief.


	3. Broadway is Dark Tonight

**ninewood: No of course she wouldn't, what a ridiculous thought! (wink). **

**A/N: No warning this time, just enjoy the chapter. And feel free to leave a review, the door is always open.**

**ooOoo**

_The cowboy kills the rock star, and Friday night's gone too far, the dim light hides on the years on all the faded girls. Forgotten but not gone, you drink it off your mind. You talk about the world like it's someplace that you've been. You see you'd love to run home but you know you ain't got one, cause you're living in a world that you best forgot round here._

_Broadway is Dark Tonight- Goo Goo Dolls_

**ooOoo**

Quickly composing himself, the Doctor put a hand on Jamie's shoulder and gave him a quick squeeze. "Now now Jamie, is it suddenly a crime to want to visit old friends?"

"I thought ye canna look back," Jamie whispered as he watched Bridget mix milk and tea for Alex and Carol.

"It's not that I can't," he coughed once. "It's just that I prefer not to. But I think perhaps it would be easier if we had some tea and discussed this later, hmm?"

"Aye, that sounds fine," Jamie and the Doctor both found spots on the couch and accepted mugs of tea.

"Doctor?" Carol chirped.

"Yes sweetheart."

"How do you know Mummy and Daddy?"

He smiled, set his tea mug down on the table. "They used to travel with me."

"Really?" she was becoming much more confident. "Where?"

"All sorts of places," he answered. "And when they didn't need me anymore, they got married and had you."

Confused, Carol's brow furrowed. "So they didn't want to be your friend anymore?"

"Oh no no, not at all," the Doctor offered her his hand, wiggled his fingers. "No, your mother and father are still my friends, but they couldn't travel with me forever."

"Oh…" Carol nodded her head, giving the Doctor a 'high five' slap to the palm. Content with the explanation, she challenged Alex to a race up the stairs.

The two children bounded out of the living room, laughing and shrieking.

Bridget's shoulders slumped in relief as she leaned back against the couch. The Doctor had been so close to revealing why they'd actually left, but, tactful as ever, he always stopped short of telling the whole truth.

The Doctor smiled, clapped his hands once.

"I never doubted you'd be able to make it work."

"Oh believe me, there are days," Bridget breathed as they heard a deafening CRASH.

Bridget sighed. "I'll go check."

Just as she reached the bottom of the stairs, Alex shouted down telling them that they were both alright, no harm done.

"What dropped?"

"Nothing!"

"Well something did!"

"It was my shoe!"

Bridget could feel her mouth drop slightly. "Shoes stay downstairs in the shoe organizer! Why are you wearing your shoes upstairs?"

"I'm not!" Alex insisted.

"You just told me it was your shoe! If it wasn't your shoe, what was it that dropped?"

"Uh…"

Jamie got up and joined Bridget at the bottom of the stairs. "If ye dinna tell yer mother what dropped, I'm coming up there!"

The Doctor laughed.

"Why are you laughing?"

"Oh no reason."

"No really, why are you laughing?" Bridget smiled.

"I haven't been home in so many years. I miss this type of chaos."

Carol came running down the stairs. "Mummy! Mummy!"

"What is it?" she caught the young girl in her arms and set her on her hip. "Carol, what's wrong? What's happened?"

"Nothing," Carol kissed Bridget's cheek. "Just wanted t' know you were there."

"Of course I'm still here," she set her daughter back on her feet. "Now, if Alex is upstairs doing his homework, which _he should be doing by the way,_" she shouted that one part of the sentence up the stairs, "I'd like you to go upstairs as well."

"But I don't have homework." And this was true, Bridget didn't know very many junior kindergarten students who have homework every single night, and she had checked Carol's backpack, if only for reassure herself.

"Maybe not, but you have my old copy of Winnie the Pooh, right?"

"Yeah…"

"I'd like you to go practice reading the first 10 pages."

She stuck out her bottom lip and reluctantly agreed. Going back up the stairs, she smiled at the Doctor and then disappeared.

**ooOoo**

"Now then Doctor," Bridget came and sat down on the couch again. "What's happened?"

"What makes you think something's happened?"

"Well you wouldn't be here otherwise. We've had sight nor sign of you for the past five years. And you wouldn't be here if something weren't wrong. Now tell me please, what's happened?"

"The Queen of Axapta…"

Bridget sent silent, her mouth taunt. "What about her?"

"She and her people have gone feral."

Somehow Bridget could not bring herself to care. Seven years before, while traveling with the Doctor, the three of them had landed on the alien planet of Axapta, where the Queen had ordered Bridget to fight for their freedom. They'd flogged and tortured her before throwing her into a coliseum and expecting her to fight. She'd done it, and had won their freedom, and afterward had gotten into a bath in the TARDIS, her back screaming at her for such an injustice.

It was that same day that she and Jamie had first established just how far their relationship would go. He'd helped her wash her back, and had laid beside her on her bed.

And it was later that same night that she and Jamie had first slept together, cementing their relationship through mutual experience and sensation. She could still remember how wonderful her first orgasm with Jamie had been, but of course she'd never reveal any of that to the Doctor.

In a way, she supposed that the Axaptan Queen, along with the Doctor, had brought she and Jamie together.

Still, even if that had happened, she couldn't bring herself to care about a woman who had ordered her tortured and forced to fight.

"And how is that our problem?"

"They've killed her, my dear girl," the Doctor answered matter-of-factly. "She sent out a cry of help, and I answered. Once I arrived, I was lucky to escape with all my limbs still attached."

"Och, aye? And what's that got t' do wi' us?" Jamie was just as skeptical as she was, thank God. While she was surprised that he wasn't leaping at the chance to travel with the Doctor again, she wondered why he'd suddenly developed such an aversion to the promise of adventure.

The Doctor's face fell. "Now Jamie, you don't expect me to wander in there on my own and risk dying unprotected, do you?"

"So ye came t' ask if I'd risk mine instead!" it was not a question, but a statement. A startling truth lay beneath the words, unsettling as it was. Of course, it had never been the Doctor's intention to put his friends in danger, but the danger was part of the Doctor's life, abandon hope all ye who enter here.

"Oh no no no Jamie, of course not," he realized what a mistake he'd made in the wording of his words. "No, I came to ask if you would come with me. I cannot help the people of Axapta on my own."

Bridget took a deep breath. "Which one, Doctor?"

"What do you mean?"

"Which one of us do you want?"

"Well surely you don't mean…"

"I don't say things I don't mean, Doctor, so please tell me, which one of us do you want to go with you and help?"

"Well, I…" he stumbled.

"I can't go, there's no one else to care for Alex and Carol," Bridget reasoned.

"An' I dinna ken if I want t' go either."

The Doctor's face fell.

Composing himself, he nodded once and went for the back door.

"Ah well, I won't force either of you. I'll just go."

"No no, don't leave!" Bridget grabbed his arm.

"Aye, dinna go!"

"If you can't come with me there's no point in me staying here."

Jamie looked to Bridget, chewing the inside of her cheek.

"Look, we haven't seen you in five years, and you promised the children you'd be here when they finished upstairs."

He managed a smile.

"Well I suppose I could stay a little longer," he agreed, closing his eyes.

"Good I'm glad," Bridget gave him a quick smile. "Besides, you haven't seen everything here yet."

"How do you mean?"

"Well we've got a riding school and the kids have over seven acres of land to play on and they want to have their own adventures as well. Can you imagine how excited they'll be when they find out about the TARDIS?"

"Surely Alex remembers his ride in the TARDIS?"

"We're not quite sure," Bridget admitted. "The memory is a fickle thing, as you've always said. His memory from the age of four till nine, I just don't know."

"And Carol?"

"I was thirteen weeks pregnant then. She was no bigger than a two dollar coin when you brought us back here," Bridget put a hand over her stomach, as though remembering the feeling of carrying Carol in her womb, unsure of where they were going and how they were going to survive without Jamie. He'd never had any doubt that she could survive on her own, she'd done it many times before, but she had Alex and the baby that would become Carol to think of. When he'd brought Jamie back he could still remember the look of gratitude and relief on her face, and it was a sight he'd never forget.

And now five years later, he'd come back and basically dropped a very dangerous, potentially deadly scenario in their laps. He couldn't honestly expect a warm welcome and an instant 'Okay, I don't mind risking my life for the eighteenth time', could he?

Speaking of Carol, the adorable five year old stood at the top of the stairs.

"Mummy, can I come down now?"

"Are you finished your reading?" Bridget asked, thankful for a distraction.

"Yes…"

"Alright, down you come."

Carol sat herself down, and came down the stairs on her bum, chanting 'bump, bump, bump, bump', counting each stair till she reached the bottom stairs.

She got to her feet and brushed imaginary dirt off her knees. "Hi Doctor!"

"Hello again, my dear," he smiled.

"Whatcha talking about? And what's a TARDIS?"

"Carol Louise Victoria, were you listening in?" Bridget gasped.

Carol stuck out her bottom lip, looked out of the corner of her eye. "Maybe…"

"Ye ken it's rude t' listen t' other people's conversations, aye?"

"Aye, but I wanted t' see the TARDIS."

"It's nae in the living room, ye ken that much. If ye'd like to see it, ye have t' ask the Doctor."

Smiling, Carol very politely did so, yelling up the stairs to Alex to come downstairs because they were going to see the Doctor's TARDIS.

"Alright, I'm coming!" he called back, sliding down the banister and landing on his feet.

Bridget watched as Jamie, the Doctor, Alex and Carol all donned their coats and shoes, preparing to go outside.

"Aren't you coming, Mummy?" Carol asked as she struggled with her mittens.

"No honey, I've seen the TARDIS many times already. You go on…" she smiled, swallowing a sob threatening to destroy her tough exterior.

She watched from the kitchen window as the four of them disappeared into the barn, sighed, and picked up the phone.

"Hi, I'm calling in response to an article about a man who jumped off a bridge into the Canal…"

"Yes…"

"That man was my father."

"I see. And your name is?"

"Bridget McCrimmon. My maiden name is Grey."

"Are you available to come to the morgue and identify the body, Mrs. McCrimmon?"

"No I'm not," she let out a sigh. "I live in Inverness now. Truth be told I've had no contact with him in over 5 years."

"I see. Then you have no idea what he was doing on the bridge."

"I have a theory, but I sincerely doubt it."

"The officers on the scene also found a bottle of whiskey on the bridge. Did your father have a drinking problem?"

"Oh yes, it's been severe since I was thirteen years old."

"There was a note sitting next to the bottle."

_That's nice_, Bridget bit back. _A note from a pervert who sexually assaulted me for over six years._

"Is there something else I should know?" she heard the officer ask.

Bridget chewed the inside of her cheek. _Yes, yes, there is lots you should know. He beat my mother to death, raped me repeatedly, beat me almost every night. Left me in the basement for days on end with no food or water._

But of course she'd never tell them that.

"No, there is nothing else," Bridget answered, bidding the officer goodbye and hanging up the phone.


End file.
